Once, Twice, A Hundred Times an Idiot
by lpdrunknmunky
Summary: Suffering through a one-sided love, Ichigo keeps imagining what it would be like to finally confess to Uryuu once and for all. He's going to do it. He must do it. No, on second thought maybe he shouldn't do it...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Once, Twice, a Hundred Times and Idiot

Pairing: Ichigo & Uryuu

Warnings: language, angst, strong sexual content

Summary: Suffering through a one-sided love, Ichigo keeps imagining what it would be like to finally confess to Uryuu once and for all. He's going to do it. He _must_ do it. No, on second thought maybe he shouldn't do it...

AN: Except for a phone conversation later in the story, all italicized dialogue is Ichigo's imagination/thoughts.

Theme songs: "When I'm Alone" by The Rifles, "Come a Little Closer" by Cage the Elephant, and "Do I Wanna Know" by Arctic Monkeys.

* * *

 _The sun is settling serenely into a fluffy nest of clouds on the horizon. Rich red rays diffusing in the condensation cast the skyline in a bloody haze. The shine of Ishida's hair reflects it in vibrant highlights as he turns his head attentively towards him. Ichigo evades his searching gaze at the last second, too anxious to meet the hard blue of his eyes in this moment. Instead, he looks around the vacant high school rooftop and thinks about how different it feels to be up here after everything that has happened._

 _A neatly-folded sheet of paper soaks up the moisture of his damp palm hidden in a pocket. The sloppy scrawl that poorly expresses his complicated feelings is at risk of running black and splotchy over the page but Ichigo can't hand it over yet. There are so many things he wants to say. He has rehearsed this speech countless times but it never sounds right. His heart jumps into his throat as he opens his mouth to speak._

 _"_ _You see, Ishida, about you—Well, what I mean to say is..."_

"What is it, Kurosaki? I don't have much time before I have to leave for class."

The fantasy is slapped away from him as his friend strides out of the bathroom. Rather than pointlessly revisiting their old high school in a melodramatic sunset, he and Ishida are finishing up a last-minute study session in Ichigo's apartment. Chad already left a little while ago and he thought Ishida had, too. Which is why he was lying on his couch daydreaming once again about something that will never happen.

Ishida comes to stand over him with a raised eyebrow. Caught mumbling stupid things to himself, Ichigo frowns.

"Nothing. I wasn't talking to you."

"You said my name."

"No, I didn't."

"Kurosaki, you..." He sighs, too preoccupied with getting to class on time to debate it further. Ichigo sits up as Ishida picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Whatever. For the record, I don't appreciate how strangely you've been acting lately."

"Yeah, me neither."

Shooting him a look for that comment, Ishida slips on his shoes and pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

"Is something going on with you? Do you need to talk about it?"

"Nah." Ichigo rubs hands over his face and exhales slowly. "I'm just stressed. Too many exams."

"I know how you feel. Hey, do you have plans tonight? Maybe we could grab a late dinner after my lab."

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Okay, I'll text you."

"Cool."

The instant Ishida shuts the door from the outside, he collapses back to the sofa with a groan. Ichigo can't count the number of times he has almost let slip that he's secretly sweet on his friend, intentional or accidental. It doesn't help that he spends so much time with Ishida these days. Ever since the end of the Quincy blood war, where they finally hashed out all their long-standing issues with each other, it's been comfortable like this. Add that to the fact they ended up attending the same university, and...

He and Ishida have never been closer. They see each other _on purpose_ almost every day, whether studying or just hanging out. Invitations flow easily. True arguments are few and far between. Ichigo knows all about Ishida's favorite things and vice versa. Laughter and praise is not taboo in a typical conversation. If they can't make time to meet up for a few days, they message back-and-forth instead.

Whenever Ishida is not around, Ichigo misses him.

Love letters, Valentines chocolates, thoughtful birthday gifts, kind gestures, excessive helpfulness, and maudlin compliments. Ichigo has to subvert these pesky urges on a daily basis. It has gotten to the point that he forgets sometimes what platonic friendship is supposed to be like. He periodically bounces his questionable inclinations off Chad first just to be sure. The man has probably saved him from a few dozen embarrassing situations.

If someone were to ask Ichigo when he first realized he was in love with Ishida Uryuu, he really couldn't answer. All he knows is it's too late to go back now. He is officially smitten and it's destroying his life.

* * *

Three hours later, Ichigo is rushing across campus en route to his last lecture of the day. Taking a corner too fast, he bumps into a group of young women and almost knocks one of them over. He apologizes and helps pick up contents of the bag he spilled across the ground. Then he freezes in place, holding a pen with a novelty cat eraser wedged on the end.

Ichigo got one just like it for Ishida's eighteenth birthday as a gag gift. It is still hilarious to him how blue eyes narrowed in confused offense at the juvenile toy. The real present was a shiny new smartphone to replace the old piece of junk from Urahara that he wouldn't throw out because 'it still works, Kurosaki, and I refuse to be wasteful'. Ishida was rendered speechless and didn't want to accept such an expensive gift, but Ichigo didn't give him a choice. It was only after claiming he didn't want to hear the man saying he missed Ichigo's call because of bad service ever again that Ishida eventually caved. He then proceeded to call every couple of hours for the next week to make sure it was working properly. Ishida answered every time.

Having the cat-adorned utensil snatched from his hand jolts Ichigo back to reality. The girl he was helping shoots him a dirty look before sauntering off to catch up with her friends. He continues to class but gets distracted again as he sees The Tree. Ichigo's steps slow to a stop as he stares at its shifting branches.

Tucked into a secluded corner of a wide courtyard, he rarely passes it anymore since his classes changed this semester. A useful meeting place since it marked a halfway point between his and Ishida's two o'clock classes, they often sat under its thick shade to eat lunch together. While they have many recurring rendezvous spots both on campus and off, this one stands out above the rest.

It is the only place where he very nearly kissed Ishida.

Propped against the tree's broad, smooth trunk, they poked at the remainders of their meals and watched fellow students milling about in the sunshine. Ishida made a critical remark about someone's atrocious fashion sense and Ichigo almost choked laughing around a half-chewed bite. The man smiled back before shifting to lie down in the cool grass. His head was resting on a messenger bag right beside Ichigo's hips and he couldn't help wishing Ishida would scoot a little closer to use his lap as a pillow instead.

 _"_ _I'm really glad we can meet up like this between classes, Kurosaki. Nothing relaxes me better than a quiet hour spent with you."_

 _"_ _Me, too, Ishida. Sometimes I wish we had the same schedule so we would never have to be apart."_

 _"_ _I was afraid to admit it aloud but you read my mind. Can I move in with you? It's so hard to fall asleep each night without you by my side."_

 _"_ _I've been waiting for you to ask. Of course you can live with me! Now I finally think I can tell you something I've been feeling for a long time."_

 _"_ _What is it, Kurosaki?"_

 _"_ _Actually, I can't be just friends anymore. I need you, Ishida. Be mine?"_

Or so it went in Ichigo's head while Ishida fell asleep for an accidental nap. Lifting his glasses off in case Ishida were to roll over, Ichigo folded and carefully placed them to the side. Even though he should have been studying for a quiz he would be taking in forty minutes, Ichigo couldn't drag his eyes from that sleeping face. A light breeze tickled his fringe about his ears and rustled his clothes. The hand he had half-slung over his stomach slid off, making his Quincy bracelet clink from the light impact.

Call it a fit of madness, but the calm scene had the opposite effect on Ichigo. It was making his heart race and his temples sweat. His fingers twitched, wanting to brush the hair from Ishida's closed eyes. He shifted uneasily in place. Tried to distract himself by opening a textbook. Sipped at a bottle of lemonade. Checked his phone for new email.

Then he pushed everything away all at once and braced on an elbow to lean right above Ishida's mouth. Ichigo barely had the will to stop himself right before their lips touched. It was the toughest battle he ever fought. The way Ishida's mouth parted on a tiny sigh didn't help one bit. Wavering in that eternal purgatory, Ichigo imagined what it would feel like to take that final step. But Ishida's fluttering eyelashes frightened him off.

Once again, he shakes himself out of pointless reminiscing and starts walking. Since he is fifteen minutes late for her class, the professor openly glares as Ichigo finally takes his seat. Yet, all he can think about once there is how he can't wait to see Ishida at dinner tonight. It is entirely too pathetic how he leans his chin on a palm and sighs in a lovelorn daze picturing it.

Maybe he'll wear the shirt Ishida gave him last year. No, it's probably dirty since he wore it a few days ago. He loves the way Ishida dresses, always looking so poised. Although it could be he just loves Ishida's body no matter what he's wearing. Especially if he isn't wearing anything at all. Not that Ichigo has seen him naked yet—not that he is expecting to anytime soon! That kind of thing would be way too good to be true.

What if he invited Ishida to an onsen? Having the chance to ogle a heat-flushed, tranquil Ishida wearing nothing but cloudy water...He would have to be so sneaky about it. Going to the gym might be easier, but less romantic. Wait, is peeking at your friend's naked body because you're secretly hot for him romantic in the first place? Surely, he must be a depraved pervert for even thinking that sort of thing! Then why does it sound like such an awesome idea?

Ichigo's head _thunks_ loudly to his desk.

He looks up to see his neighbors eyeing him curiously. Whispering an apology for the disruption, he resolves to focus on the lesson and take notes like a dutiful student. He pulls out a mechanical pencil and spiral notebook and everything! But the color of the paper reminds him of Ishida's anti-tan and the little blue lines start to resemble strands of his neat hair. Ichigo turns the notebook sideways and starts doodling slanted eyes, then glasses, a narrow nose, and his trademark smirk.

By the time Ichigo is shaping the sharp jaw line, the professor dismisses class and noise erupts as everyone starts to leave. He tries to scribble down the homework assignment but it is erased before he can catch half. Ichigo glances down at his rough sketch and sighs. This smirking Ishida he drew instead of paying attention as he should seems to be laughing at his troubles. That is so like Ishida.

Slogging his way out of the lecture hall, Ichigo resolves to confess and get it over with. He can't keep doing this. The longer he puts it off, the worse it will be. Tonight. Ichigo will tell Ishida tonight.

* * *

Tomorrow. Ichigo will definitely confess tomorrow.

"And she didn't think adding another paragraph to expand on why the social practice of kava-drinking in Polynesia is a more significant cultural concept than widespread consumption of frozen turkey tails in Oceania, though still less important than the Maori tattooing rituals. So, I told her to do whatever she wants with the draft as long as I am still consulted on edits."

Normally, he can happily listen to Ishida ramble about his humanities electives all day long, but Ichigo is too nervous about his near-misses earlier to pay much heed tonight. As they walked into the restaurant and sat down, Ichigo fought with a tenacious eye-twitch. After they were seated, he started to speak just as their server walked up and asked for drink orders. Then, when he reached across the table intending to snatch up Ishida's hand in a dramatic gesture, he knocked over the full cup as it was placed in front of him.

Three strikes and Ichigo was out.

Seeing as Ishida is in a foul mood from a group project that went south today, he figures it isn't the right time anyway. So he settles in and listens like a good friend, nodding and humming when appropriate, even if his heart isn't in it. He is idly wondering what would happen if he moved to sit beside Ishida instead of across from him.

 _"_ _Kurosaki, what are you doing? There's plenty of room on that side of the table. Are you forgetting I'm left-handed? Our elbows will bump while we eat."_

Or if Ichigo tried to be all sexy and feed him a piece of his coconut chicken.

 _"_ _Ishida, say 'aah...'"_

 _"_ _Tell me you're joking. That's unhygienic. And I hate coconut."_

Swiftly running out of ideas to flirt or be suave, he settles for trying a cool one-handed chopstick-flipping trick he saw on a show once. It looked pretty easy to do and the chick in the scene was impressed. What could it hurt? He starts wiggling his fingers slowly in a close imitation of the trick and it seems to be working. Picking up speed, Ichigo grins and glances up to see if Ishida is watching. He isn't.

The chopsticks flick out of his hands with noisy clatters. Not to be deterred, he snatches them up and tries again. Except now he's nervous from his first failure and he can't even get them going. After a few minutes of this he gives up and goes back to eating his food. A snort from Ishida has him raising his head to see why.

"I believe you were attempting this," he says and immediately starts spinning his chopsticks like a pro, dark wood blurring with the motions. Ichigo's eyebrows shoot upward. "There is a knack to it, if you've never done it before. Here, I'll show you."

He watches as Ishida slides out of the booth to perch beside Ichigo, takes his hand, and places the sticks precisely where he wants them. Instructing him on how to move his fingers and when, he demonstrates once more in his dominant hand before switching to his right so Ichigo can mirror the movement easier. Rather than focusing on the lesson, he finds himself marveling at Ishida's ambidexterity and reveling in his proximity.

"How did you learn to do this?"

"I watched the same show as you," says Ishida with a little smile, " _With_ you, actually."

"Oh...right. You're really good."

"I got bored in class one day. It's harder with pens."

Sensing that the lesson is over, he expects Ishida to move back to his side of the table. Ichigo's stomach does a giddy flip when he simply reaches across to grab his plate and continue eating right beside him. Well, his left hand is on the outside from this angle so it's not a problem. Now offering a bite of his food is looking like a decent idea after all. He picks a piece and steels his courage to turn and ask.

"Do you want to try some of this?"

"Sure," he agrees after a sip of water. Before Ichigo can offer the bite he is holding, Ishida reaches to snag a chunk from his plate. "Try mine, too."

"Only if you feed it to me." It slips out so fast and he can't suck it back in! Ichigo's talents do not include turning back time. He laughs—loudly. "Ahahaha, just kidding! Oh, man the look on your face...Yeah, like I would ever want you to feed me anyth—"

Ishida fluidly plucks a bite of his meal from his plate, twists at the waist to face him, and deposits the morsel in Ichigo's open mouth in the span of about two seconds. His lips close on the chopsticks out of habit and Ishida delicately extracts them. Then he turns back to his plate and keeps eating as if nothing unusual happened at all. Shaken, it takes Ichigo a moment to start chewing. He is staring at the Ichigo-contaminated chopsticks that Ishida doesn't seem to mind using. They touch his lips in an indirect kiss and Ichigo swallows drily.

"What, you don't like it?"

He can't tell if Ishida means the food or the fact that he just fed it to Ichigo, so he doesn't answer right away. Ishida is regarding him with a strangely placid expression. Almost as though he is daring Ichigo to say something about it.

"I liked it," he finally says in a small voice. "Can I have more?"

Smirking around his straw, Ishida breaks eye contact. Suddenly Ichigo can breathe again. Their server coming back to check in on them and leave the bill supersedes any forthcoming response. They each pay half in cash, as usual, after finishing their meals. Ichigo grabs two mints on the way out and hands one to Ishida, who readily accepts it. He takes Ichigo's wrapper and tosses it in a handy trash can along with his own.

"Movie at my place?"

"Yes," Ichigo says too quickly. "I mean, yeah, I guess that would be okay."

"I should warn you, it has been a long day and I might fall asleep before it's over."

"That's fine."

Ichigo can't think of anything Ishida could do to get him to want to leave his studio apartment. It is a rare occasion that he is invited and Ichigo likes to make the most of it when it happens. It is smaller than Ichigo's not because Ishida can't afford a bigger place but because he would rather save the money. Plus, it has the added result of using Ishida's bed as a couch most of the time, which means it's easier to slump against each other and blame it on a lack of armrests.

Ishida pushes open the door he unlocks and walks through, letting Ichigo close and lock it behind him. Shoes are kicked off, jackets are shed, and school bags are dumped next to Ishida's desk. He pointedly averts his gaze as Ishida pulls off his tie and shrugs out of his over-shirt to the thin t-shirt beneath, really not needing any more mental imagery of Ishida stripping than he already has.

"Help yourself to whatever you want to drink," he offers as he grabs the TV remote and powers it on with an electronic melody. "What do you feel like watching?"

"Didn't you mention some Korean film you wanted to check out?" replies Ichigo from the open fridge. "I'm not picky tonight."

He grabs a bottle at random and starts drinking as the door swings shut. Ishida hums in the affirmative. Ichigo looks up in time to see him pushing his pants down his legs. The sweet liquid in his mouth hits the floor in a violent burst. Even though Ishida is wearing boxers and holds a pair of shorts to change into, Ichigo's hormones don't know the difference between him _changing clothes_ and _getting naked_.

Ishida pauses with one leg in the shorts to stare at him for the outburst.

"That milk should still be good..."

"Uh. No, I think it is but," Ichigo grabs a towel to mop up the mess and hide his burning face, "I just wasn't expecting strawberry-flavored. Sorry."

"It's my favorite."

"Since when? I've never seen you drink it."

Shorts officially donned, Ishida strides over and takes the bottle from his loose grip. Standing right in front of Ichigo, he brings the sticky container to his mouth and licks a drop from the messy rim before swallowing a few deep draughts. All while holding Ichigo's gaze. His tongue darts out again to clear sugary residue from his upper lip as he hands the bottle back. On auto-pilot, Ichigo's fingers close around it without conscious decision.

"Now you've seen me drink it."

"Bathroom," Ichigo blurts and sets the milk down as if it has become radioactive. "Sticky hands."

"The kitchen sink is right behind—"

The bathroom door shuts before he finishes his sentence. Ichigo flips on the water to rinse his hands, but mostly for background noise to cover his rasping breaths. He splashes the cool water on his face and wills his heart rate to slow. Maybe it is just his recent desperation influencing him, but it really seems like Ishida is being sexier than usual. He's sexy enough as it is! Too sexy, in fact, or Ichigo wouldn't be struggling like this.

At this rate, he has to get himself under control or he won't even make it through the movie.

When he pulls it together enough to leave the bathroom, Ishida is standing in front of his entertainment center, bent over to put a rented DVD into the player. The way his shorts hug his ass in the position has Ichigo nearly tripping over a chair in distraction. Straightening at the noise, Ishida glances at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Having problems, Kurosaki? Perhaps you should hurry and sit before you break something."

"Shut it," he grunts out of habit, though he does as suggested and promptly plops onto the neatly-made bed. "Why don't _you_ hurry, Ishida? How long does it take to put in a DVD?"

"Just for that, I'm leaving off the subtitles."

Accomplished nerd that he is, Ishida is comfortable enough with Korean—in addition to a couple other languages—that he could probably watch the foreign film without any translation. Ichigo, on the other hand, knows maybe a dozen words. He shoots the man a glare for the threat. It evaporates in lieu of shock as Ishida sidles right up against him on the wide space, shoulder-to-shoulder. Their legs are even touching near the knee.

"Hey, who said I wanted you to sit so close?"

"We always end up like this anyway." Ishida shrugs, causing their shirt sleeves to ride up and expose more flesh. "Figured I'd save us the trouble of shifting around later."

"Weirdo."

"Prude."

"Jerk," counters Ichigo without heat.

"Wimp."

This continues through the opening credits, twin grins blooming as the names become more ridiculous. Then Ichigo notices that there really are no subtitles. He turns to glare hard at Ishida's blank profile. Feigning innocence, he ignores the scrutiny until Ichigo goes to snatch the remote away. Ishida evades, holding it out on the side furthest from him and keeping his expression composed.

"First and last warning, Ishida: put on the subtitles or else."

The man snickers. Ichigo pounces.

Limbs flail and breaths puff from sudden exertion. Ichigo is reaching, twisting, tugging to get to the little black bar that Ishida keeps slipping under, through, and around. Growling in frustration, he traps one of Ishida's legs between his to keep him from wriggling away and pins the opposite arm to the mattress. Ishida is laughing even as he is caught, breathless with amusement at the annoyed pinch to Ichigo's brow. As a last-ditch effort, he jams the remote behind his back and dares with his eyes.

So, Ichigo scoops him up against his chest to uncover the pesky object.

A triumphant cry sounds as his fingers close around it. Then Ichigo realizes he is effectively hugging Ishida without being yelled at or fought against. Scent of detergent, softness of hair, and warmth of body register in a roaring avalanche of stimuli. Ichigo immediately lets the man go and scoots back against the wall. Ishida isn't laughing anymore.

"Sorry," Ichigo says towards the TV.

"It's fine."

"I just got caught up in it..."

"I said it's fine, Kurosaki. Let's watch the movie."

In the end, he is too preoccupied to switch on the subtitles. How can he pay attention to an action thriller after _that_? Ishida doesn't mention it. He does resume his spot leaning against Ichigo after a few minutes, though. Praying that Ishida can't feel his pulse pounding through the contact, Ichigo is swept up in another ridiculous daydream.

 _"_ _What are you thinking about?"_

 _"_ _Is it too strange if I say I think I liked the way it felt when you hugged me, Kurosaki?"_

 _"_ _Whether it's strange or not, I don't care because I liked it, too."_

 _"_ _Maybe we should do it again? See if it was a fluke?"_

 _"_ _If you really want to, Ishida."_

 _"_ _Definitely. Then I want you to hold me down like before, only...this time pretend I hid the remote in my shorts instead."_

Biting his lip in discomfiture, Ichigo forces the fantasy to recede. Why do all of his internal conversations with Ishida sound like a cheesy erotic novel? There's no chance the man beside him would ever say anything so lame and overtly suggestive! There's no chance Ishida would ever want Ichigo to touch him in the first place, obviously. Otherwise he wouldn't have tensed up like that when Ichigo accidentally held him. He is probably forcing himself not to go scrub off Ichigo-germs in a scalding shower right now.

A heavy sigh draws Ishida's attention to him again. Ichigo ignores the weight of his gaze and pretends to be immersed in the scene. But several seconds slowly pass and he has to look over.

"What?"

"Tell me what has been bothering you," he orders in a gentle voice. "You know I hate it when I can't figure out what you're thinking."

 _"_ _You are what's bothering me, idiot. I can't keep acting like I just want your friendship. Do you have any idea what it's like to want someone so badly that it physically hurts? I love you so much I can't think straight. You are my own personal torture...and my only refuge."_

 _"_ _I had no idea you felt that way, Kurosaki. Why didn't you say something sooner? Yes, of course I'll be with you. Kiss me."_

He can't say any of it.

Every time he tries, he remembers a specific event from that night during their final year of high school. A graduation party. Everyone was there, even Ishida, who never had time for parties. Strolling through the house looking for the friends he got separated from, Ichigo pushed open a bedroom door at the wrong moment. Inside he found Inoue and Ishida. The mellow reddish tones of her auburn hair slipping between his long fingers as he kissed her deeply.

Listening to the urgent hums of her approval as Ishida's tongue sought hers, Ichigo had learned that heartache stung worse than a hand through the chest. He stood frozen there for some time, easily hidden from their closed eyes. There was no mistaking it for anything other than what it was. Neither an accident nor a joke. He had a good enough view of their faces to know it was undoubtedly them, too. And as the hand Ishida had pressed to her back began to slide lower, Ichigo finally tore himself away.

When he asked Ishida about it the next day, he firmly told Ichigo he didn't know what he was talking about.

"I told you earlier, didn't I?" he snaps too vehemently for the context, "I'm stressed out. Leave it alone already."

 _"_ _If it's stress-relief you need, maybe I can help." Ishida engages him in a slow kiss as he reaches for Ichigo's zipper._

Watching him with a flat stare, Ishida narrows his eyes to see Ichigo's cheeks ignite in a bright blush. Ichigo thanks any deities listening that the man can't actually read his mind. Though the next words out of his mouth startle Ichigo into a panic.

"If it's just stress, maybe I can help."

" _What_!?" Ichigo yelps, leaning away and pulling up his knees to guard his crotch, just in case. "W-what the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you thinking weird things, Shinigami?" he demands with genuine irritation and a warning frown. "I was going to suggest a trip to the onsen this weekend but if you're going to act like I'm some kind of _leper_ , then forget it."

"You've never gone to an onsen before!"

"Of course I have, just not with you!"

"Then why are you suggesting it so suddenly? Isn't that strange?" Ichigo suspiciously insists.

"I got a certificate for my birthday and it will expire soon," snarls Ishida, unhappy about getting the third-degree for his kindness. "I swear, Kurosaki, it's like you're a different person lately. Since when were you so on-edge?"

"Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I'll go to the onsen with you this weekend."

Ishida is at a loss for words. He doesn't appreciate the abrupt change in attitude or topic and his expression says as much. It is probably Ichigo's morose frown that convinces him to let it go. Ishida turns back to the movie as he speaks in a calmer tone.

"It's an overnight pass."

"I don't have any other plans."

"I can only bring one guest."

"Afraid to be alone with me, Ishida?"

"I was going to ask you the same, considering your reactions lately. You know we will probably see each other shirtless at least, right? We'll be sharing a room, too. Sure you can cope if I accidentally bump into you?"

Perceiving more than a little resentment from the man, Ichigo regrets his behavior. While it is true they have done things like change clothes in front of each other, wrestle to solve petty arguments, and sleep in the same room, most of that was before Ichigo decided it would actually be really nice if he could maybe have sex with Ishida. His perspective regarding physical contact and nudity has changed somewhat since then.

"Yeah."

"'Yeah'?"

"Yeah, I can cope with all that and yeah, I still want to go with you. It sounds fun."

Ishida huffs a skeptical sigh.

They don't talk for the rest of the movie. By the time end credits roll, they are lying short-wise on the bed with heads propped on pillows and feet dangling off the edge. Ishida fell asleep a few minutes ago without taking his glasses off again. Shaking his head at how absent-minded such a brainiac can be, Ichigo gingerly removes and sets them on a nearby table.

This time he doesn't fight an urge to appreciate the enticing picture Ishida makes. Clothing carelessly rumpled, part of his stomach and most of one thigh is showing. His right leg is bent, leaving his narrow hips wide open. Ichigo can practically feel the smooth heat of defined muscles under his hungry palms. Ishida's head turning slightly to the side in sleep emphasizes the graceful length of his neck. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking kisses against it.

Excitement burns in Ichigo's blood, feeding the interest he has been resisting all night. He chokes back a low groan as he swiftly rises past the halfway line of arousal. On an attraction-scale of one to ten, Ichigo is hovering right around 'throw him against a wall and shove a hand down his pants'. He dares to inch closer. The spread of Ishida's eyelashes across the tops of his cheeks flickers with the mattress' shift but he doesn't wake.

Ichigo drops daringly lower to breathe him in. The path of his nose follows along the line of Ishida's shoulder, throat, and up to his chin. The delicate curve of his exposed ear begs for attention. He imagines how the lobe would flush pink with a hot tongue rolling over it. Ichigo clenches a fist into the bedspread bunched between them and swallows hard.

"You are too trusting, Ishida," he tightly murmurs. "Can't you sense the danger you're in?"

Before he does something Ishida will kill him for, he starts to get up. Walking all the way home at this hour won't be pleasant, but it's better than trying to explain to Ishida why he didn't leave after the movie. They aren't _that_ close.

"Kur'saki," drawls a sleepy slur.

Ichigo goes into red-alert and halts mid-movement. "Y-yeah?"

Glossy blue eyes blink partially open. Ishida waves him closer with a lazy hand motion until Ichigo is lying beside him again. Surely this is the moment Ishida rejects his not-confession with cutting words and unfiltered disgust. He'll take a ruthless punch to the jaw and Ishida will never speak to him again.

"It's late: stay if you want."

"...You sure?"

"Mn."

He pulls the blanket over them both and settles in while his heart ferociously rebels against his ribcage.


	2. Chapter 2

_What an unpleasant awakening this is. Ichigo doesn't have to lift the blanket and look down to know he is harder than differential equations right now because Ishida is pressed against him in all the best ways. Wiggling in his sleep like he is dreaming of becoming a belly dancer. He can't stop a heavy moan at the glorious friction. Ishida's hips cease their circular grind when the sound wakes him._

 _"_ _Kurosaki, that had better be the remote poking into my back."_

 _"_ _Well, it's not my fault you were rubbing all over me like some kind of amorous octopus! How was I supposed to react? I'm a healthy young man, Ishida!"_

 _"_ _So you're not turned-on because it's me?" Ishida rolls over to earnestly ask with a hint of sadness. His lower lip juts in a cute pout. "Anyone could put you in this mood just by rubbing here?"_

 _His hand touches lightly against Ichigo's erection and he hisses at the jolt of pleasure. There is no point in lying, especially when Ishida is making that adorable face at him. Ichigo pulls him into a deep kiss that steals their breath._

 _"_ _Only you, Ishida. No one else does it for me. You make me so hot..."_

 _"_ _Mmmn, touch me, Kurosaki. I want you. I need to feel you inside me."_

Ichigo hits the floor with a painful _thud_ as he slides off the bed. He deserves much, much worse for dreaming what he just did. If he thought his conscious thoughts were bad, his _sub_ conscious is a raving lunatic. He would easily bet his life savings that Ishida has never pouted once in all his twenty years on this earth. Much less uttered blasphemies like 'I need to feel you inside me'. Even if the memory of those dream-words instantly reminds Ichigo that he is still very much aroused by the stupid scenario.

Expecting a vindictive peal of laughter at his tumble any second now, Ichigo glances around the space to find he is alone. But he spots a sheet of folded paper underneath his phone. It's Ishida's handwriting, of course, telling him to lock up before he leaves and that he will meet up with Ichigo later. A spare key is enclosed. Marveling at Ishida's trust in him, he squeezes the cold metal into a fist and laments his life for the hundredth time.

It is Friday and Ichigo only has two classes, neither of which require a test. He attends them anyway. Around lunch time, he gets a crazy idea that he has had and vetoed several times before. Ichigo can't afford to avoid potentially uncomfortable situations anymore, though, so he follows through for a change. Even after all these years, Inoue is speed-dial number six on his phone. She answers on the third ring.

 _"_ _Hello?"_

"Hey, Inoue. How's it going?"

 _"_ _Pretty good, Kurosaki-kun!"_ she chirps, in good spirits as usual. _"How about you?"_

"Not too bad." A brief pause precedes a more serious subject, "Feel free to tell me never to ask you this again, but..."

 _"_ _Yes?"_

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me a bit about the graduation party."

 _"_ _Uh...sure?"_

"I know it was a long time ago but this is about something that was never clarified between Ishida and me."

 _"_ _Oh. I'm not sure I should—"_

"I've heard his side of the story," Ichigo half-lies for the sake of finding a much-needed resolution. "But I was hoping you could confirm something for me."

" _I'll do my best_ ," she half-heartedly offers. " _What did you want to ask_?"

"I don't know if he ever told you this, but I was at the same party and I sort of...walked in on you two." He deliberately falls silent for a few beats to see if she will volunteer anything. She doesn't. "So, my question is if what I saw was what I think it was. Were you and Ishida really...Um. Y'know. Making out?" The phone is mute for so long that he pulls it away from his ear to check the connection. "Inoue?"

" _I'm here_ ," she hesitantly confirms. " _Are you sure you asked Ishida-kun about this_?"

"Well, he kinda shut me down pretty fast, but yeah. I did ask."

" _I guess it couldn't hurt since it was so long ago_ ," Inoue anxiously vacillates, " _And it's not like it was that important in the first place._ "

"Yeah?"

" _If you're asking whether you saw correctly, the answer is: yes. Ishida-kun and I did kiss at that party_."

"I see."

Maybe it is something in his voice, but Inoue seems to pick up on his distress. She falls right into her old pattern of high-pitched rambling like their schooldays were only yesterday.

" _But that doesn't mean anything. It was just once, Kurosaki-kun, I swear! I really think you should ask him directly before jumping to any conclusions—_ "

"Thanks, Inoue, that's all I wanted to know. I'll talk to you later," he says before ending the call.

In truth, he already knew it went down the way he thought it did. Ichigo had held out hope all these years that maybe he was wrong, maybe he had a shot with Ishida in some small way. But it is beyond time to let foolish notions about a potential relationship with his friend rest for good. Rather than trying to 'put the moves' on Ishida this weekend, he should appreciate it for what it is and then do his best to respectfully withdraw from his life as much as possible.

Although it may already be far too late for that.

* * *

"So, we'll arrive in the afternoon with plenty of time for a long soak before dinner and there will even be a special show tomorrow since it's so close to a holiday. I hear the food is fantastic there. Maybe we can go for a hike in the mountains or just spend extra time in the onsen. They offer massages but I think it might be extra. Although I have heard from a few classmates that it's well worth it."

Listening to Ishida excitedly rattle off their itinerary on the train to the hot springs is as endearing as it is foreboding. Ichigo wasn't in his right mind when he agreed to spend the weekend alone with him. Wasn't it just earlier this week he was reproaching himself for wanting to do something like this with despicable motives? There is no way he won't get caught doing or saying something totally perverted.

"Are you sure we can't just leave early tomorrow morning?"

"And waste the chance to spend more time there for free? Why would we do that? You're not still hung up on the nudity part, are you? Geez, Kurosaki, I promise I will do everything in my power to preserve your newfound modesty."

"It's not that," he grumps, sinking further into his seat and pulling his hood over his head. "I just don't see the point in staying longer."

"You'll see the point when you're getting the best massage of your life."

 _"_ _Only if you're giving it to me, Ishida."_

 _"_ _What is that supposed to mean?"_

 _"_ _It means I want your hands all over my body. No one else gets to touch me but you."_

 _"_ _That is deplorable! Never speak to me again."_

To escape the perils of his cruelly overactive imagination on a boring train ride, Ichigo pulls out his MP3 player and wedges the headphones over his ears. He closes his eyes and tunes reality out. Only the rough beat of angry rock music penetrates his shell for the next half hour. It is all too easy to fall into a brooding pattern, regardless of the fun he may or may not be having soon.

Feeling Ishida shift via the armrest, he cracks his eyes open to see a phone aimed at him. Then he leans back against his seat and starts texting without explaining why he just took a picture of Ichigo. Lifting one side of his headphones so he can hear, he nudges Ishida's arm to get his attention.

"Did you just take my picture?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Sado-kun asked why I was messaging him instead of talking to you after I told him we were on the train together."

"If you want to talk, let's talk. Why _are_ you messaging him?"

Ishida shows him the image on his phone. It features Ichigo curled in on himself and scowling like a moody teenager. He appears as if he might be making silent threats of violence to everyone in his immediate vicinity.

"Shit, is that what I look like when I make that face?"

"Usually," snickers Ishida at his surprise. "I don't take it personally."

Ichigo straightens in his seat, drops his hood, and tries to relax his expression into something less perturbed. Glancing at Ishida's approving smile does wonders. The music gets switched off and the headphones go back into his bag. Likewise, Ishida's phone is pushed into his pocket.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I've been doing most of the talking lately," he says in a thoughtful tone. His eyes lower and all humor drains from his countenance. "Sometimes it is clear you aren't even listening. I have been the only one asking to meet up. It's starting to feel lonely, Kurosaki. Do I bore you?"

His first inclination is to grab the man and kiss such antithetical thoughts right out of him. Ichigo could _never_ grow bored of him and the fact that Ishida would ask that means he is failing as a friend. Seeing Ishida suffer even the tiniest bit sets his insides squirming. Knowing it is his fault makes it that much worse. It's just so difficult trying to act normally around him when all Ichigo wants to do is proclaim his inappropriate affections.

This is it. Ichigo has to say it right now or he'll lose his chance forever. He takes a shaky breath and turns to gaze right into his eyes.

"Ishida, I lo—"

"Wow, I wasn't expecting you to be so serious," he interrupts with raised eyebrows. "It was just a joke."

"It—what?"

"In an attempt to break you out of your funk, though I guess it had the opposite effect. I was never very good with comedy but I didn't take you for the sentimental type. Do we need to discuss this?"

"Well, you do have valid points," Ichigo sighs and rests his head on the chair behind him. "I _have_ been distracted and distant. I know you're worried about me and I keep blaming it on stress, but..."

"But what?"

While Ichigo struggles for the right words, the train draws to a stop. Passengers begin chattering animatedly as they prepare to disembark. An announcement over the intercom reports their arrival at the station and provides instructions.

"Never mind. We can talk later. Let's just enjoy the resort for now, okay?"

Evidently concerned, Ishida respects his wish and consents to put it on the back-burner. He leads them off the train and all the way to the onsen down the street. Since Ishida has been there before, they arrive faster than many of the other passengers and get first pick of the available rooms. They decide on the one closest to the hot spring pools. Unpacking doesn't take long; they didn't bring much with them.

"Do you want to start with a bath? A welcome ceremony will be starting soon but it's nothing impressive."

"Sure." He watches Ishida reach for the provided kimono and head for the door. "Where are you going?"

"To change in the restroom."

"Why?" His answer is a pointed look. "You don't have to do that. Just change here."

Ishida slings the kimono over his shoulder and starts unbuckling his belt without further ado. Ichigo gasps and whips around to keep from watching.

"See? If it makes you so uncomfortable, it's better that I—"

"No!" he rushes over to slam a hand against the door before Ishida can leave. "You having to change in the restroom is too awkward, isn't it? This is your room more than it is mine. Anyway, I'm not uncomfortable, that was a reflex."

"I don't know, Kurosaki, I would hate to exacerbate your frenetic state of mind with something so inconsequential as subjecting you to unnecessary horrors."

Offended without being sure what part of that statement he is specifically offended about, Ichigo perplexedly mouths the words 'frenetic' and 'horrors' as Ishida reaches for the doorknob. This is no longer about propriety and politeness, however, and Ichigo leans on the door to keep it shut.

"You think I'm disgusted by you?"

"That would be the simplest explanation, and you know how I feel about Ockham's Razor."

"You do not disgust me, Ishida." It's such an understatement that he can't help huffing a strained laugh at the very idea. "This time Ockham is dead wrong."

"Thanks for that, but I would still prefer avoiding extra tension."

His fingers don't get a chance to touch the handle before Ichigo is swatting him away from it. Ishida glares in exasperation.

"Well now you're causing tension by being stubborn," he grumbles. "I said it's fine so just change here."

"I'm not the one who is being stubborn," Ishida snarks without missing a beat. "Maybe I'm sick of you cringing every time my shirt shifts."

"I don't cringe!"

"Prove it."

"Huh?"

Standing close with a challenging gaze, Ishida lifts his hands with deliberate slowness and brings them to the front of his shirt. Fingers pinch the zipper and drag it down. That shirt hits the floor but he has a tank on underneath. Ichigo's heart rate doubles as his eyes follow the path of his undershirt rising, revealing smooth skin. A neat navel bracketed by a shallow V. He takes a half-step away from Ishida and his back hits the door.

The second he sees nipples, Ichigo cringes.

"I knew it," snorts Ishida, dropping the tank beside his overshirt.

"Keep going."

Pausing at that, he frowns but doesn't argue. The belt clinks as it unclasps. Pants snap open. Fabric whispers against flesh. He keeps his eyes locked on Ishida's, not daring to glance down. Not knowing if Ishida is wearing underwear or not wreaks havoc in Ichigo's overheating brain. Measured breaths mark the passage of too much time as they linger in this moment.

 _"_ _What are you waiting for? Do I have to spell it out for you? I want you to look at my body, Kurosaki. Like what you see?"_

 _"_ _...Yes."_

 _"_ _Prove it."_

The kimono drapes across his shoulders and Ishida finally breaks eye contact to pull it closed in the front, knotting it with practiced motions. The spell is broken and Ichigo moves at the same time as Ishida. They separate to opposite ends of the room. Ishida clears his throat and picks up his clothes to neatly fold.

"I guess I was wrong. That was certainly less troubling for both of us than changing in the restroom would have been." Sarcasm tints his voice dark. "Now that's been established, the rest of our weekend should be a breeze."

Ichigo doesn't trust himself to reply. He watches Ishida snatch up a towel, slip on his sandals, and head out the door without another word. Minutes later, he dares to move. Hitting the wall with both fists, Ichigo pushes against it and groans in frustration. His lungs heave and his jaw clenches. He feels another sordid episode of the "Ichigo Loves Ishida" show coming on but he resolutely tunes it out.

Only echoes of imagined moans break through.

* * *

A pair of half-naked samurai are grappling against each other in the hallway. They wear identical grimaces of Herculean effort in an eternally impassioned stalemate. Although their eyes are swiveled only on the opponent, they almost seem to be full of superiority for anyone who doesn't match their dedication and vigor.

Ichigo scowls at the fanciful tapestry for implying his cowardice.

Okay, so he didn't have the guts to join Ishida in the hot spring for the better part of an hour, but...late isn't the same thing as not going at all. He pushes open the doors leading outside to the men's bath and takes a deep draught of the late afternoon air. The sun is warm through the thin cotton of his borrowed kimono. He focuses on these sensations instead of listening to the agitated voice in his head telling Ichigo he is about to be completely naked in the same vicinity as his friend. He wasn't nearly this nervous in the fantasy!

Spotting Ishida is easy since there are only two people in the pool. Ichigo freezes as he realizes the other guy is right next to Ishida, sitting too close and chatting his ear off. The bastard is good-looking with longish dark hair tied back off his neck, a wide smile, and ample musculature. Ishida turns to make some comment that sends the guy howling with laughter. The worst part is Ishida seems to be enjoying the attention.

Ichigo quickly discards his clothes and wades into the water with purpose. He makes his way towards them, dialing down the hostile glower as much as possible because it's none of his business. Ishida has talked with plenty of other people in front of him before. He knows the man has other friends, especially once they started university and Ishida found a niche in classes and clubs that just wasn't there in high school. This is really nothing unprecedented.

Ishida loses his small smile when he notices the approach. He introduces the new friend but Ichigo doesn't bother remembering the name or returning the guy's little wave of greeting. They go back to their conversation when Ichigo stays quiet.

"I can't believe you've never read Shelley's 'Frankenstein', Ishida-kun. It's such a classic!"

"Actually, I just meant I've never read the Japanese translation. The English version was available through my school's library."

"Oh-ho, you must be pretty smart reading at that level in a foreign language," praises the goon with simpering admiration. "I barely passed my middle school courses in English."

"It's easy for someone with no social life."

"Well, I'd be happy to change that! What prefecture do you live in?"

"I attend the university in—"

"You have friends," Ichigo interjects with a sharp look that Ishida returns. "We hang out all the time."

"One can never have too many friends, right, Ishida-kun? Is it too forward to ask for your email address?"

"Ugh, give it a rest, man. You're not Ishida's type."

"Kurosaki!"

"Hey, no problem," he says with hands raised in surrender. "Sorry if I over-stepped. I have to head out anyway; my pals are probably waiting on me to grab some grub. It was nice meeting you, Ishida-kun. See you later?"

"Absolutely." With that, he sloshes off towards the building. As soon as he goes inside, Ishida rounds on Ichigo with a chilly stare. "What the hell is your problem, Kurosaki?"

"I was just doing you a favor. That guy was all over you!"

"It's not your call," Ishida counters. "I didn't ask for your help."

"Fine, next time I'll let him flirt with you all night."

Ishida mutters something while turning away, but there's no way he heard that right. Ichigo grabs his arm to tug him back. "Let go!"

"What did you say?"

"I said 'let go' of me, Kurosaki," he growls so fiercely that Ichigo does so immediately.

Ishida puts space between them but he doesn't move far. Appraising Ichigo like he isn't sure what to make of him, he tucks loosened hair back behind his left ear and leans elbows against the stone edge. His glasses are missing in action, probably left in the room. And now that all the other distractions are gone, Ichigo becomes aware of the most important aspect of this situation: Ishida soaking wet and unguarded right in front of him. It's so much better than he anticipated. Ichigo mentally switches gears before his thoughts spin out of control.

"No, what did you say before that?"

"What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. Just tell me what you said, Ishida."

Realizing that he isn't about to let this one pass, Ishida frowns and angrily repeats, "Maybe I wanted him to flirt with me."

So he did hear it right the first time. "Is that supposed to be another lame joke?"

"You would probably think so."

"What?"

The word falls out of him like a single rain drop, gentle and ominous. Full of impossible implications, it begs an explanation that Ichigo isn't sure he is ready to have. It sends his thoughts in all sorts of crazy directions. As if he isn't bewildered enough as it is.

"I'm going to get some dinner. I've had enough of this atmosphere."

The double meaning of the latter sentence is not lost on Ichigo. He lets Ishida leave without complaint, but Ichigo is not quite ready to follow him yet. Sinking into the water up to his nose, Ichigo stares out at the surrounding landscape without seeing.

Despite his rumbling stomach, Ichigo winds up missing dinner. He stays too long in the bath and gets kicked out by one of the attendants. His skin feels extra sensitive from prolonged exposure to the hot water so he decides to keep the soft kimono instead of his own stiffer clothing.

Ishida still isn't back in their room by the time he returns. Probably out yucking it up with that funny-guy who has never heard of subtlety. It was fine when he thought Ishida was straight and just didn't have time to date, but if he was unforgivably mistaken...If he gets with another dude Ichigo won't be able to hold back. Even if Ishida supposedly wants to be flirted with.

What is he even thinking? Obviously, he only said that to antagonize Ichigo for being rude to his new bestest pal! Ishida isn't into men; Inoue just confirmed that a few days ago.

Exhausted from battling his own inner monologue all week, Ichigo collapses face-down on the futon and promptly passes out.

* * *

The lamp flicking on wakes him. Groggily blinking in its sudden flare, Ichigo lifts his head to see Ishida standing beside him as his vision adjusts. Blue eyes dark in the dim light, Ishida watches him with an inscrutable expression. He gracefully folds into a formal kneel at Ichigo's left side.

"Time 's it?" Ichigo slurs.

"Past two in the morning. Everyone else is asleep."

"Yeah, I bet. Why aren't you?"

When Ishida doesn't answer him, he starts to sit up. An insistent pressure asserts itself around Ichigo's arms on the way up. He looks down. A symmetrical pattern of white rope looping intricately from his neck to his ankles renders him mute for several beats. Then he opens his mouth to start yelling, but Ishida clamps a hand to it in keen foresight.

Ichigo rebels. Not only because this is disorienting and fucking _nuts_ but also...His body's first reaction to being tied up in a room alone with Ishida is not exactly fear or even anger. No, it firmly decides this isn't such a heinous idea at all. The unexpected—and _unappreciated_ , damn it!—surge of arousal is what has him fighting against the restraints more than anything. He flops and rolls and flexes but the movements only seem to tighten his bindings.

Ishida holds him steady with the weight of his body bearing down and grunts for him to stay still, to 'stop being so unreasonable, Kurosaki, it isn't painful'. But he's not listening because Ishida's thigh is dangerously close to coming into contact with his erection. And wouldn't that just be the end of the entire world?

"You scared me, Kurosaki!" The urgent words halt Ichigo's struggling. "On the train, I expected you to laugh at me playing the neglected sap but you took it so hard. You were _devastated_ thinking I felt lonely around you. I had to do it this way, don't you see? Getting you to talk openly about your feelings is like pulling teeth."

"So you made me into a human inchworm thinking that would help anything?" he snaps when Ishida retracts his silencing palm. "Where did you get this rope? Is this _kinbaku_? Since when do you know how to do stuff like this, Ishida?"

"Stick to the topic at hand, Kurosaki. Tell me why you've been acting increasingly more like a lunatic in my presence for the past couple of months. We're not leaving this room until you answer me honestly once and for all. I'm too fed up with your brooding to endure it any longer."

"Did you plan all of this? How long have you been plotting to force me to talk?"

"You remember that day I accidentally fell against you in the library trying to reach a book on the top shelf? How you shouted like I attacked you and dropped me like a hot potato? Then you avoided me for five days while pretending you weren't getting my calls."

"Vaguely..."

"Since then."

"That was three weeks ago!"

"It tends to leave an impression on you when your best friend inexplicably becomes vehemently opposed to basic physical contact with you," he harshly shares. "It's only gotten worse. The other night when I sat next to you during the movie, I thought you were going to bolt the second our shoulders touched. Yet, you used to be the one hanging all over me, Kurosaki. Tell me why you've become like this? Explain it to me clearly so I can understand."

"That 'lame joke' on the train wasn't a joke at all, was it? You just didn't mean to admit that much to me at the time."

Ishida averts his gaze in an admission clearer than words.

"You really did look devastated," he mutters towards the floor. "Even though it bothered you so much, nothing has changed. That episode in this room earlier proves it. If our friendship isn't worth working through this, then maybe we should—"

"Don't you fucking dare," Ichigo growls. The unexpected intensity has Ishida's eyes widening as they swerve to meet his. "If you want to ditch me because I'm an annoying moron, go ahead. I can't blame you. But if you think for _one second_ that you could ever mean less to me, I won't forgive you."

The stunned silence stretches. Ichigo wants to finish it. His proclamation was so close to a confession anyway. All he needs is three more words to seal it forever. They roll around on his tongue as perspiration dots at his pulse points. Breath becoming erratic, he peers into Ishida's searching eyes and wills his voice to work.

His stomach complains loudly. Ichigo's eyes fall shut on a disbelieving groan as he plops backward to the futon. He hears Ishida rise and walk across the room. When the embarrassment recedes enough to look, he sees the man returning with a box and a pair of chopsticks. He pulls Ichigo upright by the ropes around his chest and points to the wall. Ichigo obligingly turns to lean his back against it for support so he can sit comfortably.

Surely Ishida isn't thinking...

Yelping when Ishida kneels directly over his straightened knees, he gets a glare for the dramatic outcry. Fortunately, it seems Ishida has yet to notice a very damning piece of evidence, mercifully hidden by the folds of his kimono for the most part. It isn't going away any time soon if he is about to be gently hand-fed in this situation. Ishida picks up what indeed turns out to be a bento box and pinches a piece of sushi with the chopsticks.

"You skipped dinner, right? I can't expect you to think clearly if you're hungry. Here." Ichigo locks his jaw and shakes his head. "It's fresh. I got it from the kitchen right before I tied you up."

"Mm-mn," he firmly declines.

"Kurosaki, don't be juvenile. You're merely delaying the inevitable. Do I need to be more creative?"

Balking at the notion of what a more creative Ishida might do, he relents. His lips obediently part and Ishida smirks as he slips the rice-wrapped creation between them. Ichigo chews while deterring the flush he feels coming on. Isn't this way too intimate? What the hell is Ishida thinking? Friends don't do this kind of thing! This is closer to Level Seven of the relationship scale: already slept together and it was extremely enjoyable for both parties so now they're super comfortable with each other.

Swallowing hard, Ichigo accepts another bite, and another, wishing Ishida would turn the light out so he can't see what this is doing to him. Friction from the ropes against his incessant squirming sparks another realization. In order for Ishida to knot these things around him, didn't he have to touch Ichigo all over? So lightly that he didn't wake him, yet so carefully to make sure it was done right. With nothing but the single layer of his light kimono between Ishida's hands and Ichigo's skin.

He gasps at the distinctive feeling of his balls tightening. Mind flooding with panic, Ichigo thinks of any and everything boring or disgusting to wind down. Anything but the weight of Ishida's eyes on him, the heat of his ass perched on Ichigo's legs, or the smooth flex of dexterous fingers on those chopsticks. Famine, war, STDs. Maggots. The smell of expired yogurt. Daytime TV. Calculus.

It's not working.

Ichigo opens eyes he didn't mean to close and catches Ishida's pink tongue as it sneaks out to lap at a drop of sauce smeared along the pad of his thumb. He hums in appreciation of the salty taste.

"Ah, _fuck_ , Ishida," he moans as his head knocks against the wall. "You win, you cruel bastard. I can't take anymore!"

"What are you talking abo—?"

"I love you."

The box and utensils he holds clatter to the floor. Painful silence follows, attenuated only by Ichigo's ragged breaths. The relief of finally confessing is rivaled by the anxiety of guaranteed rejection. Ishida is stiller than a statue before him. It takes quite a bit for him to utter one befuddled syllable.

"Eh?"

"That's why I've been acting weird and moody, freaking out every time you touch me. It's because I'm in love with you."

"But..."

"For a really long time now. You never suspected?"

The man shakes his head, too shell-shocked for words. He starts to stand but lacks the coordination and slumps sideways to sit beside him instead. Ichigo struggles against his restraints again, wanting to reassure him and make sure he doesn't fall over or something. The movement catches Ishida's eye. He almost seems...worried.

"You never told me," murmurs Ishida in a strained tone. "Years?"

"Probably."

"Why?

"Inoue." At his confusion, Ichigo elaborates, "I know you kissed her. She admitted it even if you wouldn't. I'm assuming you guys dated, too."

"It's not like what you're thinking, Kurosaki," he says with a miserable curl to his brow.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about me. I get it. You like women and I'm the oddball in this circumstance. All I'm saying is I don't expect anything from you. I already know you can't reciprocate my feelings and I should've just kept them to myself like usual. But you kind of forced my hand with all this. You effect me more than you know, Ishida."

Even a vague reference is enough for someone like him to get it. His eyes dart along Ichigo's body in critical analysis, cataloguing all the signs he had no reason to pick up on before and figuring out what they mean in this new context. His gaze settles on the jutting center of Ichigo's hips, effectively camouflaged but still discernable.

Lightning-fast, Ishida swings back into a kneel over his legs. Ichigo's breath hitches in trepidation. Is this the part where he gets strangled to death for daring to think _that way_ about his friend? Ishida's hands aren't around his throat, though. One is braced against Ichigo's shoulder for stability and the other is...The other hand is tentatively reaching lower. Guessing its target, Ichigo tenses and snaps his gaze to Ishida's face in shock.

The instant their eyes meet, a warm palm rips a helpless moan from him. Ishida's mouth falls open at the sound and the sensation, both confirming Ichigo's declarations. At the lightest squeeze, Ichigo's mind clouds over in heady warning.

"Shit," he hisses past the pleasure.

"You're so hard," Ishida breathlessly marvels. "Is this what I do to you, Kurosaki?"

"Yes." The affirmation is punctuated with a gasp as Ishida's index finger traces a delicate line from base to tip through the damp material. " _Unh_. Don't touch me, Ishida. I can't..."

"I kissed Inoue-san," he enunciates slowly so he won't be misunderstood in spite of the way his finger keeps languidly outlining Ichigo, "Because she asked me to. It was our last week of high school and she told me how much it bothered her that she couldn't go to the same university with the rest of us. She would have to start over in a new city. New place, new friends, new crush. Meanwhile everyone else in our class had already had their first kiss."

"It was her idea?"

"It took so much for her to ask. I did my best."

"Your best looked really fucking hot," Ichigo blurts without thinking, hips twitching eagerly from such light attentions. "I've always envied her because she got the chance to taste your mouth."

His teasing fingertips retreat at that and Ichigo thinks he has finally gone too far. Ishida leans in to whisper against his ear.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Wha—?"

The hand on his shoulder rises to grasp in his hair as Ishida fits their open mouths together, immediately touching tongues. At the same time, he pulls the kimono aside to expose Ichigo for a tight, sliding grip. His orgasm pours through him like hot water, a lazily overbearing thing with gradually devastating layers. Ishida stays on him, waits it out until Ichigo's muscles relax and he blinks in weary astonishment. Only then does he pull away.

"You came so much for me, Kurosaki," he praises with a caress down the back of his neck. "Do I really turn you on like this?"

Raising a hand to lick curiously at the residue there, Ishida obliterates whatever verbal response Ichigo could have mustered. He settles for a sincere nod instead. Ishida smiles.

* * *

AN: Finally, a resolution! Or is it...?


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Ichigo cracks his eyes open, it is morning. A bleary pleasure lingers from the dream he was just having, until he realizes that it was indeed only a dream. There was no midnight visit from a concerned, demanding, and seductive Ishida. No sexy ropes or whispered confessions. Definitely no hand-fed sushi, his ravenous stomach is quick to remind him. Sitting up, Ichigo glances over to see the man innocently snoozing on his own futon across the room.

Ishida still has no clue how he torments Ichigo with his very presence.

Drawing to a reluctant stand, Ichigo cringes to feel a telltale mess between his legs. He wishes he could say this is the first time lurid dreams of his friend have created this kind of trouble, but it would be a ridiculous lie. Ichigo mentally dismisses it with a heavy sigh as he gathers up his things to head to the bathroom. Fortunately, it is early enough that only a few people are out and about so far.

When he is feeling like less of a disgusting pervert, Ichigo makes his way to the restaurant for all the food he can shove into his face. Whose idea was it to go to bed without dinner? The stress of yesterday would be more than enough to drain what little reserves he had left without adding a spontaneous fast.

Ishida joins him halfway through the meal, not bothering to comment on Ichigo's race to stuff himself silly. Seeing his refreshed face while thinking about how carefree of a time he is having compared with Ichigo pisses him off. He starts thinking about the fact that he has no idea when Ishida came back to the room last night. Maybe he met up with that new friend of his and had a nice 'chat' about how stupid and uncool Ichigo is in comparison. Maybe they exchanged phone numbers and plan to hook up later.

Maybe they went back to the new friend's room and—

"Why are you glaring at me?"

"I'm not glaring," Ichigo pouts, turning his head to gaze across the room instead. "It's called 'looking', Ishida. But if you hate it so much, I'll never look at you again."

A soft sigh is his only response. They eat in silence for minutes on end until even Ichigo can't possibly swallow even one more bite. Both finished with their meals, it becomes odd to stay but neither elects to leave. Ishida stares out the window beside their table as if deep in thought. This should be the time when he asks again why Ichigo is acting this way. It has been a long time since they were this reticent with each other. The distance is widening like a shark's gaping jaws. Ichigo knows it is his fault.

In the end all he says is, "I think I'll go for a walk. See you later, Kurosaki."

He panics. Jumping up with a clatter of chair and displaced dishes, Ichigo grabs his wrist as Ishida stands and starts to walk away. When he frowns and tries to tug his arm free, Ichigo tugs back until the man is forced to plop onto the seat beside him or lose his footing. Ishida starts to gripe, annoyed at the attention they are drawing to themselves, but Ichigo is quick to interrupt him with a whirlwind tirade.

"I know I'm acting like an asshole lately. You think I don't know that? But you're not making this any easier for me, either. Do you think it's okay to hit on some random guy just because I'm acting coldly towards you? Are you planning to meet with him right now?"

As soon as he says it, he knows it's wrong. The way Ishida recoils with furrowed brow emphasizes how strange the comment is. Only jealous lovers talk this way. How crazy has he gone that he could say something like that?

"If it bothers you, I won't see him again," Ishida says so softly that it manages to calm Ichigo's racing heart. "I'll delete his number if you want."

It's pathetic how reassuring those words are to him. Taking a deep breath, Ichigo glances down at the wrist he still holds and wills himself to let it go. His grip tightens instead. He shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, hating himself for causing Ishida grief because he doesn't have the emotional maturity to handle this kind of thing. By now, Ichigo knows he loves Ishida enough to do almost anything for him. Anything but fess up about his feelings.

"No," he resolutely decides as he finally releases Ishida's arm. "Don't delete it. Forget I said anything and go have fun. Spend the whole day with him if that's what you feel like doing. This trip was a birthday gift, right? So go enjoy it."

Then Ishida says something that instantly destroys Ichigo's manly resolve to suffer in solitude.

"I'd rather enjoy it with you, idiot."

Raising his widened eyes to meet Ishida's, he flushes to see the private smile on his face. The way his gaze warms over with sincerity has Ichigo's full belly flipping uncomfortably, but in a good way. He can't quash an answering smile, so he stands up and takes a few steps to hide it. As soon as he gets it under control, Ichigo glances back to speak.

"Come on. Let's go hiking, or whatever."

* * *

Heavy clouds gather above, hugging the mountain's many verdant peaks in preparation of an afternoon rainstorm. The rich scent of roiling humidity in the air lends a sense of urgency to their nature hike. It doesn't deter them. They continue steadily climbing the cliff, occasionally pausing to appreciate the landscape. Early-autumn colors bloom in a vivid smattering of decaying foliage. Birds chirp excitedly as they flit from branch to swaying branch in apprehension of the storm.

Ichigo plucks a wildflower and tucks it behind Ishida's ear, much to the man's confusion. Then he takes a picture and chuckles as he sends the cheesy photo to all their friends. Ishida tries to snatch his phone away and delete the embarrassing evidence but he is too slow. So he shoves Ichigo into a clover patch to return the favor with a quick click and flash. Brushing leaves from his hair, Ichigo vows to get him back later, when his guard is down. To which Ishida responds with a laughing scoff.

In the meantime, they continue on. No one else at the resort is crazy enough to venture out with clouds looming, so they have the trail all to themselves. Rain starts to fall lightly but they don't mind it. Even when it turns cold in a fast breeze. They reach the summit after a while, both soaked through but grinning with accomplishment. Ichigo shakes water from his hair like a wet dog and howls out to hear the echo.

"I told you this trip was a good idea," says Ishida, perching on a wide boulder. "Nothing like adventure to take your mind off the stresses of daily life."

Ichigo sits beside him in mute agreement. They gaze out over the hazy, grey-smudged mountains while their breathing slows. It occurs to him after a while that the temperature has dropped considerably since they left the resort. Thanks to the reiatsu he constantly emits, Ichigo never really gets too cold. That doesn't necessarily hold true for Ishida. Knowing him, he would elect to bear it in silence rather than cut their sightseeing sojourn short.

"Why aren't you shivering?" he candidly asks. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not while you're touching me." Of course he takes it the wrong way. Ichigo jerks his head around to stare in shock at that sultry statement until Ishida corrects the misunderstanding. "Quincy, remember? I can absorb your reiatsu and convert it. You are my own personal nuclear fusion reactor, Kurosaki."

"Oh...right."

"What did you think I meant?"

"N-nothing," he snaps, pushing to a stand to end the conversation. "Anyway, let's just head back before we catch cold."

Leaving without waiting for the response, Ichigo strides back down the trail. Ishida calls out but he keeps going. The inclined path is muddy and pebble-studded so that the descent has become hazardous. The drizzle turning into a downpour only worsens the issue but still he doesn't slow down. If Ichigo can only make it back without saying anything dumber than he already has, maybe this trip won't end in disaster after all.

Ishida catches up just as the trail curves sharply to border a high cliff.

"Kurosaki, what's gotten into you? Didn't you hear me calling for you to wai—Gah!"

A slippery rockslide steals Ishida's footing at a critical corner. Ichigo whips around in time to see him go down, rolling towards the lethal edge. Ishida stops himself by snagging a thick root an instant before Ichigo dives to catch him. Pulling too hard in fear, Ichigo overcompensates and sends them both tumbling backwards onto the path. They roll to a stop with a muddy squelch. Ishida wipes sludge from his cheek but succeeds only in smearing it.

"Are you okay?" Ichigo demands, checking him for visible injuries. "Did you sprain your ankle?"

"No, I'm fine. Just filthy."

The fright fades and he realizes Ishida is lying on top of him at a slight slant. Their legs are tangled together, faces too close. They're both covered in muck and being drenched by rain but Ichigo could care less about that. Ishida shifts to get up. He acts without thinking, taking hold of Ishida's upper arm to halt him before he can complete the movement, stopped in a kneel bracketing one of Ichigo's thighs. The question at the tip of his tongue goes unasked as Ishida meets his worried gaze.

More than anything, Ichigo wants to raise a hand to pull him close. He wants to confirm that Ishida is fine with a long kiss that becomes something else, messy and revelatory with no regard for public decency. Imagining it only strengthens the urge.

"I'm sorry. You almost fell over the edge because of me."

"It's not that serious. It was my own carelessness."

"You were trying to catch up with me," Ichigo insists. "Now your clothes are ruined."

Planting both hands to his shoulders in emphasis, Ishida tilts his head slightly and makes direct eye contact as he says, "I'm not the type to regret getting a little dirty every once in a while. Especially when it can be fun."

And Ichigo's tongue freezes mid-reply at that. Ishida stands, tugging Ichigo up with him. Just as they start walking, Ishida grabs his hand and uses it to sling Ichigo's arm over his shoulders.

"Wha—?"

"I'm relying on you to keep me warm until we get back to the hot spring," Ishida sternly tells him with a hint of amusement. "Think of it as penitence for acting like a brat lately."

Since he has no response to that, Ichigo allows it. They continue down the mountain, taking care to keep each other from slipping again. This is by far the longest they have spent actively keeping contact with each other and Ichigo can't say he doesn't appreciate it. It feels so familiar, so comfortable to walk closely together. Yet, he knows it can't last. The moment the resort comes into view, Ichigo pulls his arm away and separates from him. They draw enough looks as it is due to their bedraggled appearance.

The restaurant is packed when they pass on the way to their room. Apparently it is dinner time, but Ichigo is more interested in washing away the earth slowly drying into a crust on his skin. Ducking into their room just long enough to grab a change of clothes, they hastily make their way to the showers. Sighing almost in unison at the heat of clean water, they scrub away the dirt with too much soap.

It occurs to him that this is a perfect opportunity to show restraint. Ichigo won't ogle his friend in the shower just because he can. No, he will mind his own business and let Ishida have his privacy. The stalls are separated by tiled walls but they are roughly waist-high. He could easily see everything from the navel up if he wanted. But he won't.

From his periphery, he sees Ishida turn towards the spray and duck his head past to let the water sluice down the length of his neck and back. With the curtain of his hair hiding his face, Ishida is blind to potential peepers. Ichigo looks. The quickest glance, he swears, and then he won't look again. The tempting sight of him, however, proves too much to pass up and his eyes stay locked-on for far too long.

Pausing in his own ministrations, Ichigo falls into a self-made trap. He follows the lines of soapy water snaking south until the wall interrupts his view. The beginnings of a curvy behind are the limit, just a pair of pelvic dimples and the hint of a swell below. It is enough to rekindle an ever-ready flame that has Ichigo biting his lip in mild distress. Ishida chooses that moment to turn around, presenting his chest as he tilts his head back to rinse his hair. Lifting his arms to push it back, Ishida's flexing muscles wring a soft, breathy groan from Ichigo.

He opens his eyes and catches Ichigo staring.

"If you're looking for superior shampooing techniques, I might have a few pointers," Ishida jokes with a smirk. The fact that he misjudged Ichigo's intentions sends a relieved shiver down his spine. "Though you would probably benefit more from adopting the use of a comb."

"So I can painstakingly brush my hair into perfection like you? No thanks."

"Nice to know you think my hair is perfect, Kurosaki."

"Perfectly nerdy."

"Better than hopelessly unruly."

"You know you wish you had a style this cool, Ishida."

"If by 'cool' you mean eccentric, then no. I like my style just fine."

"Is that why you keep changing it every other year?"

"What's wrong with a bit of variety?" Shutting off the water, Ishida reaches for the towel and secures it around his waist, ending their flippant banter. "I'm heading to the onsen while everyone is still at dinner. Coming?"

As if he needs more opportunity to fantasize about Ishida. He follows anyway.

Sinking into the water beside him, Ichigo rests his head on the edge and releases a controlled sigh as his eyes close. He resolves to keep them shut until they leave the onsen. Instead, he listens to the wind and to the insects chirping their nightly calls in the woods just outside the high fence. Steam rises to heat the cool night air. Incense burns nearby. In this calming atmosphere, Ichigo relaxes enough to think unobstructed for the first time in a while. Even his perpetual lust for Ishida is momentarily side-lined.

They soak for a while like that, content to stay quiet and appreciate the ambience until others begin to join them. Their happy chatter gaining momentum as more friends wade into the large pool. He glances over to see Ishida eyeing the growing group with resignation. It doesn't bother Ichigo since he likes to people-watch, but he can also understand the appeal of having the onsen to themselves.

"Want me to scare them off?" Ichigo offers, dead-serious though it gets a laugh. "I'll do it, Ishida. Say the word."

"Who are you kidding? You're probably already scaring them with that Halloween mask you call a face."

"I'll show you Halloween," he growls, shifting closer in a mock-threatening manner. "Maybe I'll commit a murder right here."

"You could try, Kurosaki."

"Don't tempt me."

"Are you saying that drowning naked men is your idea of a fun Halloween hobby? Sounds kind of awkward to me."

"Nah, since it's you I could do it." Once again, he speaks before he thinks. Ichigo's face contorts in efforts to hide his stricken expression at that massive slip-up. "I mean, because you frustrate me so much I want to kill you sometimes."

"One would think there were ways with fewer erotic undertones..."

"Ero—No! I didn't mean it like that," Ichigo waves his wet hands in negation as Ishida raises his eyebrows. "Who said it was erotic? It's just water. So what if we're naked? You're the one jumping to conclusions here, damn it!"

Out of breath from his mild panic attack, he pants while Ishida laughs loudly enough to send curious glances their way. It has become way too easy for Ichigo to make a fool out of himself lately. Flustered beyond fairness, he grabs his towel on the ledge nearby and sloshes his way out of the onsen. He hears Ishida call to him but he ignores it. Stomping all the way back to their room and snarling at anyone who dares to gape at him, Ichigo slams the door and reaches for a fresh kimono to pull on. He flinches when Ishida comes through a moment later and slams it again.

"What was that about? Since when are you so sensitive to dumb jokes?"

Ichigo turns to face him only after reigning in his foul attitude. Towel hastily slung low on his hips, Ishida stands in the middle of the room dripping onto the tatami mat with a shallow scowl. A faint tremor shakes through his frame from the sudden chill of leaving the steaming water to enter an air conditioned room. It does nothing to deter him from having this confrontation. One Ichigo can't afford to have. He uses his last tactic and goes for distraction instead of answering.

"Hey, didn't you say something about wanting to get a massage?"

"What? Don't change the subject, Kurosaki."

"No, I'm serious. We're leaving in a few hours, right? This might be your last chance. Rather than arguing with me, why don't you go—"

"They're booked through the weekend," Ishida resolutely snaps. "More importantly, I'd rather you explain—"

"Fine, then I'll do it." It's a desperate move, but it had to be done. Ishida freezes mid-word with his mouth open at the suggestion. "It's my fault you're having a rough time anyway, right? Arguing isn't going to change that. So why don't we drop it for now? I'm a decent masseuse. Karin has had a lot of sports-related muscle pain over the years, you know. Who do you think she asks to fix it?"

In truth, it's an empty offer since Ichigo knows he won't accept. Ishida is the type of person who doesn't like to be touched. It literally took years to get him to stop twitching every time Ichigo accidentally grazed his arm or something trivial like that. The fact that they can lean against each other during movies is the product of much sneaky work on his part. There's no way Ishida would ever be complacent to have Ichigo rubbing his hands all over his back and shoulders. But if it gets him to shut up about Ichigo being stranger than usual, he'll say it as many times as necessary. Now Ishida will be too unsettled to keep questioning him and—

"All right."

" _What_?"

"I said 'all right', Kurosaki. You can try to give me a massage," he states so calmly that Ichigo is the one left speechless. "But if you're awful, as I suspect you will be, then I reserve the right to tease you mercilessly about your lack of skill."

"Really? Wait..."

Ishida is already settling belly-down on the futon with his head turned to the side. When Ichigo remains standing there like a lost kid, he cracks open his eyes and laughs at his dumbfounded look. He rolls to his side and bends his elbow to prop his head on a hand. Smirking like he just won a bet.

"Changed your mind so soon? Maybe I'll take pity on you and forget you ever offered."

"N-no. You wish!" Steeling his resolve, Ichigo walks over and kneels beside him, roughly rotating him to lie flat again. "Shut up and stay still."

"So far, I'm scoring you a one-point-zero. You'll have to try harder if you want to get anywhere near a ten."

"I'll show you a fucking 'ten'," he growls and attacks Ishida's shoulders too aggressively. "Don't you know better than to antagonize someone when you're at their mercy?"

"Maybe I like it rough."

Ichigo immediately snatches his hands away as his face erupts in a violent blush.

"What kind of pervert says something like that to their friend?" he demands in a high-pitched cry. "This is already too strange, Ishida. Keep your gross inclinations to yourself!"

Quiet laughter is the only response. After a moment, he reaches out to try again, much gentler this time. He has to willfully shut off his brain to keep a running commentary from distracting him. This was such a bad idea in the first place. Who knew Ishida could handle this level of physical contact? The last thing he needs is to start _enjoying_ this. So, Ichigo tunes out the lascivious aspect of it and concentrates on the motions.

He wasn't lying when he said he has done this for Karin. Mostly on calves or sore fingers, but still. Trying to pretend it's her and this is just a brotherly favor works for about four seconds flat. After that, he starts noticing things. Like how Ishida doesn't have a single freckle anywhere. Not so much as a hint of a pimple. Seriously, how does he get away with having perfect skin? Even his battle scars are faint and thin, sort of shiny like spider webs.

Despite his confident bravado, there is a definite tension in Ishida's body. The shoulders Ichigo lightly kneads are tight, shifting minutely with each shallow breath. It's the exact opposite of how a good massage should be. Determined to change that, Ichigo scoots closer and bears down with slow, strong squeezes intended to unravel the knots Ishida has made of himself.

It seems to be working. His breaths lengthen as the muscles start to lose their excessive rigidity. The furrow of Ichigo's brow deepens in focus as he uses the pressure of his palms on the tenacious spots. Leaning over from one side like this is too difficult, so he swings a knee over to straddle Ishida's legs for better access. He puts his weight into it, ironing out the kinks and smoothing down the center of his long back. Residual drops of water make it easier until they evaporate from the friction. They really should have some sort of oil for this.

He is really into it now. Attentions narrowed to the mechanics of it as Ichigo digs thumbs into his lower back. His fingers splay out to contour Ishida's narrow sides as if he is holding his waist from behind. Ichigo pauses there and really feels the warm flesh beneath his fingertips. The damp towel covers Ishida's rear but does nothing to detract from the shape of it, so close to the edges of his palms. It would be too easy to 'accidentally' touch lower and apologize. He could totally get away with it.

Shaking off the urge, Ichigo starts working his way up again. Ishida doesn't comment on the pause, if he noticed at all. He stumbles upon an area he must have missed earlier, because rubbing over it forces a sharp gasp from Ishida. Curious, Ichigo kneads it again and gets no response this time. He keeps at it anyway, suspecting something special about this patch on the lower-middle of his back. Ichigo dares to peer over Ishida's shoulder and gauge his reaction. He is surprised to see him biting his lip.

Surely if he was in pain he would say something. Wouldn't he? Ichigo increases the pressure to confirm, expecting a wince or maybe a shout. Instead, he hears the faintest, breathy moan followed by another shallow gasp.

Ichigo releases a shaky sigh at that. Not only is he not causing Ishida pain, but his efforts are very much eliciting some degree of pleasure. A pleasure that Ishida is avidly attempting to hide from him. Probably so he can pretend Ichigo did a horrible job as soon as they're done. Of course he would want to gripe and tease whether it was nice or not, this punk! Ichigo isn't going to let that happen.

Rallying his best efforts, Ichigo doubles his intensity to hear more proof of how high his rating should be. He'll have his 'ten' yet! The result is irrefutable. It starts with a change in breathing pattern, evolves to a few of those barely-there moans, and finally escalates to one loud groan that causes Ishida to clap a hand over his own mouth. Ichigo draws his hands away and beams in victory.

Ishida twists at the waist to look up at him in clear accusation. It only widens Ichigo's grin until he realizes a few important things. Ishida's hands are shaking. His eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, cheeks delicately flushed, mouth parted for deeper breaths. He looks like how Ichigo feels right after a really good orgasm. Except there's no way he would miss something like _that_ going on right under him.

The thought utterly destroys Ichigo's professional demeanor. He practically leaps off Ishida and paces across the small room, pretending he just wants a drink of cold tea. Though he nearly spits out the sip at what Ishida says next. Or more like the ragged sound of his voice as he says it.

"You did that _on purpose_."

"Did what?" he challenges while facing the wall. "Don't go implying stupid things for no reason." The next time he turns around, Ishida has pulled on a kimono and ditched the towel but he is still glaring. "Well? What's my rating?"

"Nine-point-five."

"What's with the half?" Ichigo complains even as he inwardly glows at the high approval. "Where did I lose points?"

"For leaking out so much reiatsu that you almost gave me a fever," he half-heartedly grumbles.

"Oh? Well, sorry I got you too hot, Ishida." Blue eyes flare wide but he stays mute. "Wanna go again? I'll do it better this time."

"N-now who's saying perverted things?"

"I just want a perfect score." Sensing weakness, Ichigo's approach forces Ishida to take a few uncertain steps back. "I'm not afraid to earn it. Lie down and tell me how you want it."

Reason returns to Ichigo after hearing himself say those shameless words. He didn't mean it like _that_. Ichigo starts to apologize but the conflicted look on Ishida's face stops him. Why isn't he yelling? This is the part where Ishida is supposed to call him a freak to defuse this weird tension and move on. Aren't they taking this too seriously? He tries to laugh but he chokes on the inhale. Panic burns in his lungs.

A knock on the door has them both jumping in shock. Ishida hesitantly calls for their visitor to enter. It is only a courtesy reminder that check-out is in an hour. Ichigo thanks the woman for a couple of reasons and shuts the door as she leaves.

"We should pack," Ishida says. "Then get some dinner before we catch the train home."

"Okay."

"Don't forget to charge your phone."

"Right."

"Toss me that bag?"

"Sure."


	4. Chapter 4

Ichigo hasn't been sleeping well lately. His dreams range unpredictably from blissful to miserable, sometimes with a confusing jumble of both at once. It becomes so irritating that he almost longs for the high school nights when he rarely slept but at least it was because of Hollow hunting. Now the reason he can't seem to rest these days is something he can't do a damn thing about.

He is on a cool-down period with Ishida. As soon as they got back from the weekend trip, Ichigo basically started avoiding him at all costs. Surprisingly, Ishida has been allowing this without complaint. Maybe he is just as eager to put some physical and emotional distance between them as Ichigo after they accidentally crossed too many inappropriate lines in a short period of time. For all he knows, Ishida could be permanently scarred from that awkward massage and want nothing further to do with him.

It's probably time to explain himself, Ichigo knows, but he still can't bring himself to admit the cause of all this drama. Although at this rate he may very well lose Ishida's friendship if he doesn't take a chance. That thought is what inspires him to take a half-step toward confessing at last. Albeit after a couple weeks of radio silence with the object of his perpetual brooding. Since he isn't sure if Ishida really is avoiding him, too, he doesn't bother with calling first. Ichigo just shows up at his apartment one quiet Friday night.

They have this routine where Ishida opens the door right before Ichigo can knock because he always senses him coming. It happened so often that eventually he stopped thinking to knock. He stands in front of the door now, expecting Ishida to appear in the door frame like usual. It takes him a moment to realize this is why he is confused, staring at the green metal wondering what's wrong with this picture. Rolling his eyes at himself, Ichigo knocks. Waits. No answer.

Now he is really confused because he can definitely feel Ishida's reiatsu inside. He tries the handle and discovers that it is unlocked.

"Ishida?" he calls, cautiously stepping inside. Hearing Ishida's low voice speaking from his bedroom, Ichigo locks the door behind him and says, "Hey, why didn't you answer the door?"

Right after he kicks off his shoes and strolls into the living room, Ishida emerges from his bedroom looking irritated with his cell phone in hand.

"I was on the phone. What are you doing here, Kurosaki? I don't recall inviting you over."

"Since when has that stopped me?" he flippantly retorts as he flops onto the sofa. "I have something to tell you."

Ishida watches him for a moment, raising an eyebrow when the revelation doesn't come. Ichigo pats the cushion beside him in a silent request. Frowning in agitation, he obligingly walks over and sinks into the seat to face him with one leg bent and his arms folded across his chest.

"What is it this time? Are you here to explain why you've been avoiding me?"

"Yes." Surprise flashes across his features. Ishida clearly wasn't anticipating compliance. "Okay, you're going to think I'm messing with you or that I'm crazy but bear with me. Part of the reason I've been acting like such a freak lately is because I-I'm...uh. Well, I'm pretty sure I might be..."

"You're what?"

"A little bit—more than a little, probably—like a four or five? Not really sure how that scale works, actually."

"If you're not going to make any sense, you should probably just leave." Rising to a stand, Ishida starts to walk away. "I have a lot to get done tonight and I don't have time for your babbling."

Ichigo grabs his arm in mild panic, "Wait! If I don't say this now, I don't think I'll ever be able to."

"Then quit with the games and spit it out, Kurosaki!"

"I like guys!" Whipping his head around to stare, Ishida's eyes flare wide before narrowing in doubt. "At least, I think I do. One in particular, anyway."

"Congratulations?" he tries with a slight tilt of his head, gently tugging free of Ichigo's grip. "Is this one of those things where you had to tell someone to get it off your mind? Was your dubious bisexuality weighing you down, Kurosaki?"

"No, nothing like that."

Rubbing a hand wearily over his face, Ichigo shakes his head and sucks in a long breath. He really bungled this, didn't he? Now more than ever Ishida probably thinks he's nuts. This is exactly why it has taken him so long to even admit this much. How is he supposed to convince Ishida that he has secretly been in love with him for years if he scrutinizes everything that comes out of Ichigo's mouth, for good reason?

"That still doesn't explain your recent behavior towards me. Did you think I would disapprove? Hardly. Who's the lucky fellow?"

"Come on, Ishida, you of all people can't be this oblivious. Are you gonna make me say it?"

"What are you on about now?" he angrily demands. "I'm supposed to read your mind? Do you have any idea how chaotic your line of reasoning tends to be compared with normal people?"

"Fine, I'll spell it out for you."

Taking a breath in the penultimate moment before he drops the ultimate bomb, Ichigo freezes. He can't say it out loud because he has already said it so many times in his head that it sounds too strange now. The words won't even form on his tongue. What if Ishida rejects him outright? What if he laughs it off as a joke? What if he never wants to speak to Ichigo again? He's already on shaky ground after all the stupid shit he has been doing lately. This could be the final straw that ruins a perfectly functional friendship.

"Well?" Seeing how Ichigo is grappling with this, Ishida takes pity on him. He schools his features into something calm and resumes his spot on the couch. "Whatever it is, I won't get mad so just tell me if it's that important to you."

A hand is carefully lowered to rest on Ichigo's between them on the cushion. Between his sympathetic assurance and this accepting gesture, a wall comes crumbling down inside him. Air rushes out in a shaky sigh as the tension leaves his shoulders. Ichigo raises his eyes to meet Ishida's and murmurs what is probably the most important phrase of his life.

"I'm in love with you."

Ishida blinks once. Then he grabs Ichigo by the shirt and he has a half-second to hope, to dream that maybe Ishida wants to kiss him. That notion is cruelly dashed when he is dragged from the couch and shoved toward the door instead. Ichigo struggles and tells him to wait but Ishida is much stronger when he is pissed and he flings his quarry against the door before yanking it open roughly enough to rock it in its hinges.

"Get out of my apartment, Kurosaki," he snarls when Ichigo digs his nails into the frame and holds on for dear life. "Fair warning: I'm on the verge of violence right now so I wouldn't _test me_ if I were you."

"At least let me explain!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ishida roars back, reddening with fury. "Whatever moronic impulse compelled you to utter such nonsense...This is my very least favorite thing about your personality."

"It's true, damn it! Just hear me out?"

Terrified that Ishida will succeed in kicking him out, Ichigo pushes back so hard that they tumble to the floor, ricocheting off the door with a force that causes it to bounce from the wall and slam shut. Ishida takes it as the start of a fight, too enraged to see it for the accident it was. He lands a punch to Ichigo's gut that knocks the wind from him. It only devolves from there. Even though this is something they are used to as a ready alternative to settling petty arguments peaceably, Ichigo feels out of his element when all he wants to do is make Ishida understand.

Why is it that out of the dozens, hundreds, _thousands_ of scenarios he has envisioned for this moment, none of them resulted in an actual fist-fight? It's still better than a cold rejection, he guesses.

Ishida whacks him in the nose, drawing blood. The sight of it is enough to temporarily deter his fierce momentum. Ishida lets off with a growl of frustration, twisting to sit panting on the floor next to him in a silent truce. A sharp glare bores into Ichigo when he props himself up on an elbow, pinching his nose to stem the flow with his head back. After a minute or two of catching their breath and cooling off, a tinge of contrition pinches Ishida's visage.

"I warned you," he turns his head away and grumbles. "You never listen to me."

"Couldn't leave it like that," Ichigo nasally mutters in return. "You'd never forgive me."

Gracefully standing, he strides down the hall and comes right back with a box of tissues that he offers Ichigo. He takes three or four and mops up the mess on his face. The pain is minimal, so he's pretty sure it isn't broken. It might have already stopped bleeding. Ishida leans against the wall and lets his head dip to stare at his feet. Ichigo can tell he wants to apologize but he won't. This is also something they have done many times before.

"Is this because of what I said at the onsen? About wanting that man to flirt with me?"

His voice is quiet, almost as though he wishes Ichigo won't hear.

"No."

"I didn't even mean it. You know those cheerful, talkative types make me nervous."

"Yeah."

"I only said it because you were acting like a jealous thug."

"I was _so_ jealous," Ichigo admits with a hint of humor at his own foolishness. "Still kind of am."

They share a look. Then Ishida cracks a smirk on a soft laugh. He offers a hand to help Ichigo up and leads him to the kitchen. Wetting a washcloth, Ishida pulls his hand away and dabs at the drying blood with a look of concentration. Ichigo doesn't even try hiding the fact that he's using this opportunity to stare at Ishida's face up-close. Of course he gets the strongest urge to lean forward and steal a kiss, but Ichigo knows better than to try.

"Do you want some ice to put on it?"

"Nah," he declines but Ishida goes to the freezer anyway. Ichigo sidles up beside him and asks, "Will you hit me again if I call you by your given name?"

"Yes."

The answer is quick but not biting. It feels more like harmless banter. Ishida tosses some cubes into a bag and slams it on the counter to break them into smaller chips that will contour to the bridge of his nose. He lifts the bag to set it in place but Ichigo stops him with a loose grip on his wrist. Ishida won't meet his gaze.

"Look at me, Uryuu." He does, but with an annoyed quirk to his mouth. "Will you get mad if I say that I've wanted you for years?"

"I'm already mad," Ishida snaps, shoving the ice against his chest for him to catch and pivoting on a heel to leave. Ichigo's hold on his wrist tightens to hold him firm. "Let go."

"If you're already mad and you've already hit me..." reasons Ichigo with a playful smirk, "Then what do I have left to lose?"

"Your life."

Ichigo ponders that for a second, eyebrows raised. "Good point."

He starts to move and Ishida's eyes widen because he knows what it means, but he doesn't have time to evade. Ichigo barely manages to graze their lips together in a light kiss. Ishida responds by shaking his arm free and stepping out of range. Although he turns his head to hide it, Ichigo catches the way he flushes and makes a soundless gasp.

"G-go home, Kurosaki!"

"Don't wanna."

Taking advantage of the fact that Ishida doesn't want to show his face, he steps behind him and drops his hands to tense shoulders. Ichigo ignores the way he twitches at the touch and starts to knead the knotted muscles, just like he did at the onsen. Ishida's breathing stays tight and measured, but he also stays still and quiet. Even the kisses Ichigo leans forward to dust along the back of his neck don't scare him off. They coax a strained sigh from Ishida as he visibly surrenders to this.

That's when Ichigo inches closer to wrap his arms around Ishida's middle and nuzzle his cheek against smooth hair.

"Kurosaki," he accuses in a strangled voice, "You idiot."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Ichigo replies, stealing a line once spoken by the Ishida in his imagination. "For the longest time, I was convinced you only liked girls since I saw you kissing Inoue years ago. Why did you lie when I brought it up the next day?"

"Something like that...it was too embarrassing to discuss with you. I thought you just wanted to tease me." Ishida shifts in his hold to look at him as he asks, "If you saw us like that, then what changed your mind?"

"A dream, actually. Back at the onsen, you got so frustrated with me that you tied me up, kinbaku-style, and forced me to tell you why I had been acting like such a jerk. Dream-you told me Inoue asked you to do it but that was it. Then you fed me sushi and I liked it so much that—Um." Too quick to miss Ichigo's flash of embarrassment, Ishida lifts one suspicious eyebrow. "Anyway, I guess the dream combined with your comment about flirting with dudes made me think twice about it."

"You weren't too far off. Inoue-san did ask me to kiss her, but at the time I wanted to do it, too. I thought I loved her."

Panicking a little at that, Ichigo spins him by his shoulders to look at him properly, "But you didn't, right? You don't?"

"No," he confirms with a dash of nervous laughter, "I didn't and I certainly don't. Not in that way."

The relief makes him overconfident, makes him _fall_ against Ishida's mouth and steal a much deeper kiss than the one before. Ishida breathes a startled sound and half-heartedly tries to reverse. An insistent hand curling at the back of his neck stops him cold. His lips part in defeat and his fingers grip at the back of Ichigo's shirt. A brief hesitation is all it takes for Ishida to allow his tongue inside.

They stand in the middle of Ishida's kitchen, kissing far too loudly in the quiet apartment, until Ichigo is woozy with it. Three times Ishida tilts to snatch a desperate breath but Ichigo won't let him go far. He has waited too long for this to finally happen and he won't be satisfied unless it is done right. Thoughts of everything else he has waited to do with Ishida start flooding in, turning his kisses demanding and tipping him into dangerous territory.

His hold tightens until there is no space left between them. Feeling Ishida's entire body against him and listening to the happy, urgent noises he is making heats his blood too quickly. He wars with himself, wanting to hurry—shove, take, devour—but also wanting to take it slow—savor, sense, seduce. Hands start to shake and the disparate pieces of Ichigo are crumbling apart while melting together. In the end, an old anxiety wins out above everything else.

"Okay," he wrenches himself from Ishida to begin, "Okay, this is going to sound so stupid and lame and clingy but I have to know that this is mutual. Are you feeling this, too?"

Without the support of Ichigo's arms holding him steady, Ishida takes two short steps backward to lean gasping against the counter with flushed cheeks. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth as he stares towards the floor in nothing short of full-blown shock. His eyes jolt up to meet Ichigo's after a long moment.

"I'm definitely feeling it," Ishida lowers his arm to quietly confirm, gaze flicking to Ichigo's mouth, "Difficult not to."

"Then you'll go out with me? Fuck, I've been waiting to ask you that forever...I have so many ideas of stuff to do that we both like, places we haven't gone yet and—"

"Kurosaki." The use of his family name combined with the stoic expression Ishida shows him create an agonizing foreboding inside him. "This is the turning point. Last chance to take it all back and just be friends. Maybe the idea of dating me seems fun, but there's a reason I'm always single: I'm kind of a complete mess, emotionally."

"And I'm not?"

"...Good point."

Ichigo beams, creeping closer. "So is that a 'yes'?"

"Only if you swear not to regret it later," Ishida mumbles with the hint of an answering smile. "I want your solemn vow, Ichigo, that you'll take full blame if it ends in tragedy."

Heart squeezing at the sound of his name, Ichigo grabs him to press silly kisses all over his face despite a persistent grin.

"I swear, Uryuu. If you decide you hate me and never want to speak to me again, it's totally my fault," he blurts in a single breath, "Because I already know there's no way I'll ever get sick of you. I love you."

He keeps professing it, holding Ishida close and kissing him everywhere. Although he half-heartedly opposes this onslaught of affection at first, soon he drops his guard and lets Ichigo lead him into the living room. They collapse to the couch in a heap of breathless laughter. Ishida slides off his glasses to blot an amused tear from the corner of his eye and Ichigo uses the distraction to duck in and start kissing his throat. He hears the glasses touch the table before Ishida's hand is guiding him by the chin to meet his mouth.

While he had primarily accepted Ichigo's kisses earlier, now he returns the gesture with noticeable intent, even going as far as initiating another level of it. Ishida's hands start to wander while Ichigo's still in concentration. Those slender fingers find the edge of his shirt and sneak below, one rubbing slow circles across his lower back, the other inching up his stomach. Ishida slides his tongue in deep as his thumb rubs firmly over a hardening nipple.

Releasing a devastated moan, Ichigo urges his hands into action but all they do is lift to tangle in dark, silky hair. Ishida seems to approve of fingertips tracing across his scalp; he rewards this consideration by lowering a hand to rest at the top of his thigh, right over the outline of his erection. Ichigo jerks out of the kiss with a startled gasp. His eyes drop in time to watch Ishida lightly squeeze and massage with the heel of his palm.

"Oh _fuck_ , Uryuu, that feels so good," he exhales in a rush, "We should stop now, or I might attack you."

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

The husky tone of his voice sends a strong shiver down his back, where Ishida shifts his grip to grab Ichigo's ass in an aggressive gesture. His body moves without his command, shoving Ishida to the cushions and scrabbling at his shirt and pants to get them open. He smirks up at Ichigo with half-lidded eyes and holds his arms out of the way so his clothes can be ripped from his frame. Clever bastard probably senses exactly how much Ichigo has wanted to strip him like this.

Ishida hums approvingly as his neck, chest, and abs are licked, nipped, and sucked. Bright teeth sink into his bottom lip when Ichigo roughly yanks off his jeans with an impatient growl. He groans loudly and stuffs his fist between his teeth to block the sound when Ichigo takes him in hand. The arm is snatched away, knuckles stamped with fresh pink impressions, and Ishida arches to feel a thumb nudging into the sensitive divot of his dick.

"Keep your hands away from your mouth," Ichigo gruffly commands between heavy breaths, "I want to hear every sound you make for me clearly."

Then he dives down and sucks hard, reveling in the surprised cry as Ishida digs his fingers into the upholstery.

"Ichigo! _Gods_ ," he huffs between more of those alluring moans, "Knew you'd be like this. Always thought you would... _Nnnh_...fuck like you fight."

Brimming with pride at the compliment, Ichigo decides he likes the sound of that. Although he doesn't want to 'defeat' Ishida so much as utterly 'destroy' him in a different sense. Then he realizes that Ishida just admitted he has thought of him in this way, maybe even many times before. It makes him so happy that Ichigo doesn't let up several moments later when he is haltingly warned. He drags Ishida over the edge and basks in accomplishment when he loses his fucking mind at the dexterous flick of Ichigo's tongue.

Ecstasy is written all over Ishida's face when he finally lets up.

"How's that for a quick-and-dirty battle?" Ichigo teases with an arrogant smirk.

"Why did you wait so long?" he returns almost angrily, struggling to sit upright with muscles gone pleasure-pliant, "We could have been giving each other orgasms like _that_ all this time!"

Even if Ichigo had a response, he wouldn't get to say it with Ishida yanking him forward to connect their mouths. Ishida spills into his lap and kisses him into submission—Ichigo can already tell they're going to be a couple who kisses way too much. His hands settle at Ishida's hips and curve over, appreciating the way his ass feels cupped between splayed fingers. The snap of his slacks opening almost goes unnoticed under the sounds of his own eager groans.

Propping against his shoulder for support, Ishida reaches down to draw him from the cramped confines of his boxers. Ichigo's head tilts to knock against the back of the sofa on a silent sob. Ishida doesn't waste the opportunity to nibble his ear unhindered as he sets an indolent pace with a tight fist. But Ichigo was already about to follow Ishida just by listening to the sultry noises he made while going down on him, and he isn't going to last long now.

"Uryuu, go faster," he rasps despite jolts of strangling pleasure, " _So close_."

"Hmm, I don't think so." Ichigo's eyes flutter open in shock at those words to see him smiling evilly. "I'll make it last, Ichigo. Draw it out until you're nearly mad with desire. I want to watch you fall apart at my touch like nothing will ever make you feel this good."

"I'm already there!" His breath catches at the expert twist of Ishida's wrist. "Please, Uryuu..."

" _Yes_ ," he hisses and sinks to kneel on the floor between Ichigo's knees, pushing them further apart. "I want to hear more of that."

Lips graze his cock and Ichigo curses under his breath to feel his balls tightening. Ishida quickly wraps a securing grip around the base before swiping his tongue over the top. Once again, his hands can only reach for Ishida's hair like some kind of anchor keeping him tied to shore. A pleased hum slips out and Ichigo can't stop himself from bucking up at the thrilling sensation. The fact that Ishida reacts to the accident by easily taking more of him in sends his brain tripping over itself in lust.

Ishida tortures him well beyond reason, as promised, in spite of Ichigo's repeated requests to do otherwise. Eventually, he gives up fighting and clings to the backboard while his hips rock in unsteady little thrusts that Ishida loosens his jaw to allow. Sweat drips down his skin. His eyes refuse to focus even when he can force them open, but Ichigo keeps trying so he can watch the bobbing head at work. It makes the pressure that much more intense.

Suddenly an important thought breaks through the haze.

"Is this...my punishment?" he asks. Ishida's eyes swivel up as his movements slow but don't pause. "F-for taking...too long to say it?"

That vise-grip disappears and Ichigo comes so hard his entire body snaps taut. Lungs freeze up and brain burns out. He's not sure where he goes or for how long, but when he gets back Ishida is mouthing sloppy kisses against his working belly. Seeing Ichigo's eyes on him, he climbs back into his lap and sucks on his neck instead.

"Yes."

"Yeah, what?" Ichigo huffs, still recovering.

"Yes, that was your 'punishment for taking too long to say it'. Now that's out of the way, we can move on—"

"Good."

"—To the bedroom and continue this endeavor somewhere with a little more space."

"Huh?"

"You're not the only one who has been watching a friend with wicked thoughts, Ichigo. We have a lot to make up for. Fortunately, I have plenty of lube."

As Ichigo is unceremoniously tugged off the couch and towards Ishida's bedroom, he can't even be annoyed about all the times he _almost_ confessed but couldn't. He doesn't regret countless hours spent longing for more than platonic friendship but too terrified of losing what they had to try. All he can think is how lucky he is to finally, _finally_ see Ishida's sexy smile directed at only him.


End file.
